Are there certain lines that can’t be crossed when it comes to family relations? Lines that make parents never forgive their own children?
Apparently, the answer is yes, because there are a whole lot of people out there talking about just this very issue.
Folks on AskReddit shared their sad stories…
1. Uh oh…
“Kicking me in the ball$ every time we go to the grocery store. Little f*cker is sitting there, facing me, legs just dangling at perfect ball kicking height. Next thing you know, BAM! Daddy’s doubled over, tears welling up, and once again wondering how he didn’t anticipate this.”
2. A story from the other side.
“I’m not the parent I’m the daughter, but I think it’s safe to say my mother will never have anything to do with me or my children ever again. I sued her (and won). I would have never called her the warm and fuzzy kinda mom, more of a narcissistic type. I always longed for her to be nurturing to me, but deep down I knew it wouldn’t change.
When I was pregnant at 22 with my son her response was to tell me to get an abortion, “people do it all the time, I did it, thank god for abortions…” Needless to say she wasn’t a warm and fuzzy grandma to my son, or my daughter born two years later. For example, I wasn’t allowed over with the kids on the weekends, cause that was her “alone time” with her husband. …And for a short period of time I shared a car with my husband. I’d call and ask my mom who lived 5 minutes away if she could grab me a gallon of milk while she was out, and I’d give her the cash. She’d hardly ever help me out and bitched and complained about how it was out of the way for her.
One day I finally got fed up, after a fight we had about me asking her to take my 2 year old son for a bit so I could wrap his Christmas gifts. We didn’t talk for a year, and that’s when I decided (mostly out of spite) it was time to do something about the money she wrongfully took from me years earlier. My grandfather (mothers father) bought a house for me as an investment when I was two, he paid cash and the deed was in my name. I didn’t know this growing up and after my grandparents died and my parents divorced she decided to sell. She had a lawyer forge documents and sell the house under her name before I turned 18.
When I found out about this (even tho I should have) I wasn’t mad. She told me she’d give me half because she thought that was far, and she’d give it to me at her digression… So long story short she didn’t hold up her end of the bargain, I sued, and won, pretty sure I’ll never hear from her again. But I can’t say there isn’t a huge part of me that just wants to know she’s loves me and misses me and longs to have a meaningful relationship with my kids.”
“My friend’s parents disowned her for dating a Black guy that was like 15 years ago she is married (to a white guy) with 2 kids and they still don’t claim her as their daughter. Some people, man…”
4. Still bitter.
“Oh my god, I’ve got a good story. Last may, my son was 2 years old and watching Wreck it Ralph on our brand new huge 3D television. We had it maybe 2 months.
I hear banging, so I turn from cooking dinner and into the living room, and he had somehow found a screwdriver and was banging the sh^t out of the tv. The screen was broken. I was furious. We still are tv-less in our living room and I’m still bitter.”
5. Dragged down.
“I met my stepson when he was three. Only child of an only child, only grandchild, only great-grandchild, he was pretty used to having the world revolve around him. He told me once that he was the “most important person in the family, because everyone would die without him.” I talked to him right then and there about perceived importance and being self-centered. So the drama unfolds over three years. He is, by this time, 14 and has developed a reputation for lying, constantly.
In the course of year one, I broke my wrist twice, leading to eventual surgery and a month-long convalescence. In November, at the end of my convalescence, I get a message from the girlfriend of the guy that my wife was planning to meet up with for f*cksies telling me to “get a leash on my wife.” I check around, and it turns out my wife had been having a series of affairs while abandoning me at home with the kids and accusing me of cheating. So, we start the divorce in December and together calmly explain to him how we’re all staying in the area, he will see everyone, etc. I tell him that he will have greater responsibilities, but greater privilege as the divorce progresses.
In February of year two, my ex comes by the house while he’s watching his siblings and asks to borrow his iphone (one of those privileges he got). He hovers and keeps trying to take the phone from her, so she tells him to sit his ass down and tell her what he’s hiding. He says “nothing,” but remember that he makes a habit of lying. So she checks his phone and finds that he’s been Skype-messaging with someone. Thousands of messages. All of them are cross-gender brony sexual role-play, all with some adult male that neither the ex nor I knew. We sit him down and have a long talk about how being gay is fine, but that exchanging messages with grown men online is dangerous. I explain pedophile grooming to him and we take all of the information from him. No more computer, no more iphone, he has no web access.
A month later I check his cell phone to find that he was now texting several men the same incredibly intense brony sex-play. I take his phone, I destroy all information on it. He was no longer allowed to stay at home to watch his siblings. He had a new handset, new number with no way to transfer the numbers. Two months later, he had their numbers again and was going from the new phone. Two months after that, I catch him with an ipod that he bought by taking games from my house and trading them to the local Gamestop. Each time, the same content is on there. Gentle talks become firm reminders, become absolute mandates, become spittle and profanity-laden screams as I begged/demanded he not drag us down this road. I was terrified that one of these men would convince him to meet them and that he would then be gone.
A week later, my ex catches him with another ipod. He’s wearing her underwear. All of this was things he’d stolen from her room. She smacks him around and sends him to live with me until she can calm down. Three weeks later, on a hunch I check his bags and find his plans on how he’s going to go meet up with one of these guys. I hit the roof, I scream, I threaten, I entreat, I beg… it’s Saturday and I resolve that as soon as I can get to a clinic, I’m checking myself into therapy. (He had already been seeing a therapist at this time.)
Two days later, on Christmas day, he packs his things and tries to leave. I catch him as he’s going out the door. I pull him back in, he tells me he doesn’t think I care… and somewhere in there the last vestige of what held me snapped and I tumbled into the gaping maw of rage and madness. I have two other kids that I have to, must care for, and the strain of trying to protect him from what he’s getting himself into as well as making sure that his sexual problems don’t get taken out on his siblings finally snaps my restraint.
I crossed the line, I knew when I did it and I let him go. Called the police immediately afterward. I’m in cuffs, my ex takes all the kids to her place. When I’m finally released I go home and shake uncontrollably until I finally pass out.
Two weeks later, January of year three, his mother drops him off at my place and tells me that her boyfriend was missing $40 and they found $20 on the son and haven’t found the rest. The next morning my friend that stayed the night (I won’t be alone with my oldest now) tells me that money is missing from her purse. I stop my son, and eventually he gives me the entire sum of money he’s taken. $382 in all, which is enough to get a bus ticket to somewhere. Since then, he’s been in therapy the whole time. His mother will not send him to a care facility, as she “doesn’t believe it’s that bad.” I keep catching him with ipods and mp3 players, all of which are loaded with Brony porn. His drawings are primarily of his “OC” sucking d%cks. His friends at school loan him phones so he can keep in touch with the guys that brought him here, and there’s d%ck-all I can do to stop it.
He doesn’t come to see me anymore. Every time I see him, I find something new that he has turned to this pursuit of being victimized. Note: if he had a boyfriend his age, I wouldn’t care. Gay, straight, all just part of a spectrum to me, but he has turned it into a disorder.
So, I’ll never forgive him for bringing us to this point. The drain of caring for so long and that absolute meltdown… I had a hard time expressing emotions before. I was abused as a child myself, and it left me rather restrained. Since that night, I barely even feel emotions. They are only now starting to return enough that I can truly engage with someone. So, even though I am the bad guy, I’ll never forgive him for making me that.
I just… want my kids safe.”
6. No interest…
“My oldest son felt his last GF before he got married tried to trap him by getting pregnant. He does pay child support for his daughter but will have nothing to do with her. We still have a decent relationship with her mother (who is not a perfect person, but not horrible and, fortunately IS a good mother) and get to see our granddaughter (now 3 and a delightful, happy kid) when they’re in a area. He and his wife had a daughter about 2 months ago and he seems to be warming up to the idea of being a ‘dad’ but I’ve told him and he still fails to see that he’s been a damn fool.
Time, the experience of being an engaged parent and just generally maturing will prove I am right to him eventually, but it’s already almost too late. I genuinely believe, and have conducted my life accordingly, that for 99% of us the only real legacy we leave is the next generation and his actions have so fundamentally flown in the face of that value that, at least in this regard, our relationship will probably never be the same…… sad…. didn’t have to be this way.”
7. Story about a friend.
“A friend of mine stabbed his sister in the abdomen in a heated argument a few years back, she can no longer have children.
He was promptly kicked out the house and told to never come back, I still see his sister and his mother around and they always say hi, I just give that awkward smile back.”
8. The necklace.
“I’m writing this for my mom. When my parents were dating my dad got my mom a gold necklace with a queen Neffi pendant on it. It wasn’t that expensive but they weren’t exactly rich at the time so it meant a lot that he scr*ped together the money to get if for her. Since I can remember my my parents have never been lovely dovey so it was a reminder of good times for my mom and she wore it every day.
Years later she gives it to my sister when she turns 18 after she begged to wear it to a dance. My Ipsh^t, cocksucking,ball battering sister ended up giving it to her then boyfriend who would make dates to return the necklace but ended up f*cking my sister instead. He ended up getting arrested and having is confiscated by a Montreal jail house were both he and the necklace reside today. Anytime someone brings up the necklace to my mom she gets this distant and sad look in her eyes.”
9. The flip side.
“I know my Father still holds me responsible for him losing rank in the USAF, because he beat the hell out of me and my school turned him in to child services.
Frankly, I don’t care if he forgives me or not….there are special places in hell for people who beat on kids.”
10. The gazebo incident.
“I asked my parents about this and they both responded at the same time “gazebo incident.”
When I was about 11 or 12, a friend and I found this military store in Saratoga NY. We bought a whole bunch of smoke bombs that were pretty f*ckin serious in comparison to the little colored “smoke balls” we used to get at the local toy store.
Well one day, we threw smoke bombs in the gazebo (which was an enclosed space) when everyone was by the pool. We were playing ‘spy’ or some stupid bullsh^t. Of course, the gazebo went up in flames and also torched the trees and led to a fire that was spreading throughout the entire property.
And yes, this was a rental house that fit 6 full families for summer vacation.”
11. The feeling is mutual.
“My mom will never forgive me, and I will never forgive my mom.
My Mom was deep in to drugs (Crystal meth and painkillers). Married an abusive guy, had a kid with him. Horrifying guy. I would have to call an ambulance once a week because he Overdosed on drinking pain patches. (I don’t know what the drug is called) I have 3 siblings at that point, The youngest (child of the new husband) was being held down and getting her skin tweezed because my mom “Can see broken glass in her skin.” She had tried to pick at all of us but all the older siblings had escapes. (My sister always playing soccer, I went to the library a block away, and my younger brother was best friends with the neighbor.) After seeing her scabs, and my mother still persistent on getting the glass out, I called the police.
After the police showed up me and all my siblings were taken out of her custody. Me, my older sister, and younger brother went and moved in with our biological father (Just got out of prison for making meth(Yeah my dad was f*cking Heisenburg)) who had completely turned his life around.
My youngest sister goes into the care of our grandparents.
My mother can schedule visitation, but she doesn’t want to see me and she knows that she can’t just see the other 2 and leave me behind, so she ignores all of us completely and skips town for 8 years.
She just came back to town and expected to be welcome into my grandparents home because they have 2 spare rooms and my grandmother was always quick to forgive (My grandpa hates my mom though). Thank god I now live with my grandparents and she doesn’t want to see me, or she would have gotten to move in with my sister and grandparents, and I hate the thought of my little sister growing to love her mother not knowing what was being done to her.”
12. That’s harsh.
“I am currently a college dropout, about 3 years ago my father was diagnosed with cancer. Before he died, when I was still going to college we went to my sisters graduation. While we were waiting around for the ceremony to start my mother told me she would never forgive me if my dad didn’t see me graduate from college.
I promptly failed out that semester, then he died.
I’m not sure if she remembers telling me that, but I sure as f*ck do.
Not the best story teller, but what do you want from me, I’m a worthless sack of sh^t college dropout. I cant afford rent, I mooch off my girlfriend for practically everything. I have a sh^tty dead end job that I hate. My life has pretty much gone to sh^t the last couple of years.
I don’t speak to my mom except maybe 3 times a year. I know she is lonely and sad but I just can’t be around her. Makes me hate myself even more for failing her and him.”
13. Sorry, Mom…
“I set our house on fire when I was 13. There was a lot of damage, mostly to the basement. My mom got it (somewhat) repaired and told me she was using the $100 that my great aunt gave me when I was born. So naturally, I took a can of spray paint and spray painted my name, in cursive, over the repairs.
A few days later, I woke up to a big guy with a baseball bat in my room. My brother yelled, “Just give him your money and he wont hurt you.” It turned out that this guy was an exterminator – rats got in to our home because of the fire damage.
I recently said something about all of this on facebook and I learned that my mom is still really mad and has never forgiven me.”
14. That’s not good.
“Found out our daughter had used a mold of my p*nis I’d given to my wife as a gift.”
15. That’s bad.
“My brother pawned my mothers wedding ring she’s had since ’72. My parents are still married.
He bought heroin with the money.”
Yeah, so have you ever had somebody in your family do something so bad you could never forgive them?
You don’t need to tell us in the comments if you’re not comfortable… but if you are we’d sure like to see those stories!
Let us know!